


Things That Happened

by quercus



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-12-14
Updated: 2001-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-05 12:08:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quercus/pseuds/quercus





	Things That Happened

Sam squatted behind a wholly inadequate bush, her trousers rolled down below her knees, on which she rested her head. She felt the blood clot start to pass, and sighed with relief. Goddammit. One day of each period was especially heavy, and she swore to god that that day was programmed into the computer that scheduled their off-world missions.

If she raised her head, she would see her teammates about a football-field length away, studiously facing the opposite direction, as if the horizon held some fascinating feature. But she didn't. They went through this several times a year and, by now, it was nearly routine. Humiliating, but routine.

Out of fear that she'd be caught off-world for a lengthy time, she had long since packed her vest, jacket, and backpack as full of tampons as she could. If she ever fell into a river, she wasn't sure if they'd keep her afloat or absorb so much water she'd drown. Daniel, now that his allergies were under better control and he didn't have to haul so much kleenex around with him, had shyly offered to carry more for her. He was a kind man and apparently Sha'uri had had difficult periods -- perhaps that's why they hadn't had children during their year together. She had blushingly accepted his offer. So far, she'd never had to ask for any of those tampons, but she did step through the gate more easily knowing he carried them.

Oh god. At last. She inserted a fresh tampon -- _for those extra heavy days_ \-- and attached a maxi-pad to her underwear. Finally, finally, she was able to jerk up her trousers. She packed out her used material, kicked chalky dirt over her mess, and shouldered her pack again. The embarrassing part was rejoining her team. She wondered if they said things to each other like: She's on the rag. Must be that time of the month. Thank god all three of them had been married.

"Ready, Colonel," she called out, and he glanced over his shoulder. He'd remained standing, as had Teal'c, but Daniel was sitting cross-legged. As she approached, he looked up at her. His eyes were invisible behind his sunglasses, but she could tell he'd been lost in thought. "What's up, Daniel?"

"Well. I'm not sure." He pointed in the direction they'd been looking. "I think those are ruins. Jack thinks we shouldn't diverge from our initial plans."

"And we're not going to, Daniel," the colonel told him firmly, staring down at him with his arms crossed over the P90 strung from his neck.

"Jack."

"Daniel."

Sam rolled her eyes. This flirting-teasing thing they had going annoyed her some days, and this was one of them. She glanced at her chronometer. "Daniel, we have to go with our initial objective. But I'm sure if there's time afterwards, the colonel will permit us to survey the ruins enough to see if it would be worth a follow-up."

She realized she'd spoken a little sharply when both men turned from regarding each other to looking at her. "Sir," she added belatedly, and put her own sunglasses on.

"Jack?"

"Whatever. Move out, people."

They started walking, Colonel O'Neill stalking ahead of them. Teal'c dropped behind, and she remained next to Daniel. "You okay?" he asked quietly, and she nodded, blushing.

"Thanks."

"Thanks for talking to Jack."

"Not that it'll do much good."

"Oh. It might." He grinned at her, and she shook her head.

"What do you think the ruins might be?"

"Well. Hm. The preliminary reports from the MALP and the two UAVs didn't indicate any signs of habitation here. Ruins would indicate otherwise. I think we need to see for ourselves."

"I agree," she said, and glanced at the colonel's back. "But you know we need to fulfill our primary mission first."

He didn't say anything; she hadn't expected him to. Daniel rarely responded when someone spouted party line to him. She was never sure if he couldn't hear it, was refusing to hear it, or was being polite by not pointing out how idiotic he found it. Primary mission. Yes, she was military, military through-and-through, a general's daughter, an Air Force brat, but she was also an academic and a scholar. So she knew what Daniel must be thinking when she said things like "primary mission." Sometimes she was ashamed of herself.

They walked on. They were here only because this was one of the worlds identified in the cartouche room Daniel had discovered on Abydos. Their mission, as always, was to find out if any Goa'uld had been here recently. Second to that, was there any naquadah or trinium available. Only then would they be permitted to do any kind of archaeological survey.

Sam was glad that Daniel was a member of SG-1. His talents were invaluable; he thought outside not only military boxes but most boxes; and he was a hard worker and a sweet-natured friend. But she also knew he was an archaeologist and linguist first, and that he missed the opportunity to do that work. She wondered if he'd be happier on a different SG team, one of the archaeological survey ones. She glanced at him, striding along, dressed identically to O'Neill and Teal'c and herself, one of the guys, another flyboy in appearance.

Well, if he was unhappy, he only had to ask. It was pretty obvious that General Hammond would give Daniel whatever he wanted, so if he wanted to do other work, he could. He must want to be here, in spite of all his complaints.

And in spite of, or because of, his relationship with Colonel O'Neill. A relationship Sam often puzzled over. The nature of their relationship was unlike any other she knew. Certainly, Daniel didn't accord the colonel any of the respect due him as a commanding officer, no doubt in part because Daniel wasn't military. But there was something more to it than that. Daniel respected O'Neill, she knew that, but he also challenged O'Neill on every level, and in ways she was sure no one else ever had.

And the colonel seemed to love it. The way they teased and picked at each other, even in the hairiest situation. The way they spoke in unison, something that annoyed the shit out of her. And the way they looked at each other, as if confirming something that she couldn't see, couldn't know. More annoyances. And envy, too; she was envious of their friendship.

The colonel also touched Daniel more than he touched anyone else. O'Neill wasn't a touchy-feely kinda guy, either. Yet even as she watched, she saw O'Neill twist his head back, his eyes going to straight to Daniel. She peeked at Daniel out of the corner of her eye and saw him smile at the colonel, and the colonel smiled back. Who knew what had just transpired between them? She certainly didn't.

Eventually, they reached the stream bed the UAV had found. The SGC's geologists had decided this particular formation of water, canyon, and soil type indicated a high probability of naquadah. She and Teal'c began systematically sampling the soil, while Daniel marked the sites of the samples on a map. The colonel walked the perimeter, occasionally checking in with Daniel over the radio, cryptic comments that seemed to amuse both men.

Night was falling when Sam finally stood up, putting a hand to the small of her back and stretching. "What do you think, Teal'c? Have we got enough?"

"I am certain we do, Major Carter. I believe we should return."

"Hey, wait. You said we could stop by the ruins. If we go now, it'll be too dark."

"So." O'Neill loomed out of the dusk. "We get a move on, we can still catch the hockey game."

"Jack."

"Daniel. Pack up the map and let's go."

"Jack, please. We haven't seen if the Goa'uld have been here. Those ruins might be our only chance." He stared at the colonel. "It's part of our primary mission," he added slyly.

The colonel shook his head, smiling, Sam thought, despite himself. "Love it when you talk dirty, Daniel. You really think the Goa'uld might have been here?"

"I have no idea. Until we look at the ruins, we can't know."

O'Neill rolled his head back; Sam could hear his neck pop. "Carter? Teal'c? You got any hot dates tonight, or should we spend the night here?"

"Daniel Jackson is right. We should ascertain the presence of the Goa'uld."

Sam shrugged. "Primary mission, sir."

"Okay, Daniel. You win. That means you gotta set up the tent."

"Oh, like I can't."

"Hmm. Which tent collapsed last time you set one up?"

"Well, you could get off your ass and help me."

Sam watched them stroll off toward the packs. She glanced at Teal'c.

"We should set up our own tent, Major."

"Yeah. Where you want to put it?"

"Not too close to the stream. I see signs of occasional flashfloods."

"Yeah, noticed that myself. Up there, then." As she unpacked the tent and stretched it out in preparation to setting it up, Sam said, "I can't believe it ever rains here." She and Teal'c worked smoothly together, always had, even from the beginning, when she'd felt awkward sharing a tent with him and had wondered why the colonel hadn't put her in with Daniel. At first she thought it was because he assumed she needed Teal'c's protection, but she soon began to believe it was because he needed Daniel's presence.

"You are thoughtful tonight, Major."

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I guess. A little tired."

He said nothing further, but she saw him watching her as the tent popped up before them. These new designs were amazing. Lightweight, easy to assemble, and very warm, even in the coldest weather. Larger, too, than earlier models, which was nice when sharing with someone as big as Teal'c. He tossed her his sleeping bag and she unrolled it, then hers, the heads facing the opening. She popped both their backpacks in and finally stood, sighing with relief. The colonel and Daniel were still arguing, she saw, but their tent was up, too, Daniel halfway in, the colonel leaning over him, haranguing him about some damn thing.

Her lower back hurt. She was having mild cramping in her uterus. And she had a headache. All in all, time to break out the Advil. Teal'c had started collecting firewood, so she also pulled out the MREs and a bottle of water. She wondered if Daniel had brought any goodies along this time. She would kill for chocolate.

The ruins, to Daniel's enormous disappointment the next day, were not ruins at all, just weather-damaged sandstone. "Like in Monument Valley," O'Neill said, staring up at a melted-looking monolith.

Daniel kicked at it, and said, "Remind me why I'm here. Is there actually a purpose to having a social scientist on a team that never comes near any societies?"

"Daniel."

He shrugged and turned abruptly, heading back, Sam realized, toward the gate.

"Daniel! Dammit, Daniel. Slow down." The colonel trotted after him, leaving Sam and Teal'c to follow more slowly.

Less than fifty yards away, Daniel's better nature kicked in and he stopped, waiting for them to catch up. "I'm sorry, Daniel," she told him, and lightly touched his elbow. He nodded, but didn't look up.

There was an awkward silence, and then they started walking, more slowly this time, back to the gate. At last, Daniel said, "Thanks for letting me check it out, Jack."

"I'm sorry, Daniel." And he did sound sorry, Sam thought.

"You are a valuable member of this team, Daniel Jackson. Do not be in doubt of that."

Daniel smiled shyly at Teal'c. "Thank you."

For a while, they walked in silence, and then Daniel said, almost to himself, "It's just that no other anthropologist has ever had these opportunities. It's as though I have a responsibility to the entire discipline, to gather everything I can and bring in back to earth, where maybe, someday, someone can study it properly. Not the hit and miss attention I have to give it."

There wasn't much to say to that, Sam thought. She shook her head in dismay; the burdens Daniel assumed. O'Neill finally slapped him on the back, his hand lingering. They walked the rest of the way in silence.

Sam wasn't sure, but she thought the colonel might've had something to do with the next couple missions. Both were on worlds with a wealth of archaeological evidence. Daniel was simultaneously delighted and frustrated. He also apparently suffered from some kind of hyperactivity disorder, working late into the night and rising at first light to begin again. Then SG-1 was stood down for two weeks, supposedly at Frasier's orders, but Sam figured it was to give Daniel time to write up his findings.

She forgot about it, though, once she started rebuilding her Indian bike, with the help of Graham Simmons, a genius with a gas engine.

Sam returned to base riding her rebuilt Indian; she'd cut her hair again because she was sick of helmet hair. First on the missions, now on her bike. So she stuck her head in Daniel's office to surprise him. Not surprisingly, he was staring at what she recognized as an artifact from the last planet but two they'd visited.

"Hey."

"Sam! How are you?" He gently set down the potsherd and then hugged her; she hugged him back and kissed him happily. "Oh my god. You had your hair cut by Jack's barber."

"You jerk," she laughed, lightly smacking his shoulder. "You don't like it?" she added more seriously. He left his hands on her shoulders and studied her hair gravely. The minutes stretched out and she shook her head. "Come on, Daniel. Spit it out."

"You're beautiful, Sam. You're always beautiful." They smiled at each other, and she felt the familiar clutch in her heart. Her dad had once told her that Daniel was a "good boy," and she had agreed. Still did, although she thought of him as a good man.

"Thank you. So are you. What did you do with your two weeks?"

"Um." He gestured at his desk.

"So. Solve the mysteries of the universe yet?"

"Didn't you know? The answer's forty-two." They sat down, and he began to show her what he and his team had done. "SG-11 went back," he said, and called up a map of the area they'd been working on. "They've been doing some really impressive work, Sam. Look at this."

By now, she was growing familiar with the various archaeological techniques and was able to follow him. At last he picked up the dirty, broken piece he'd been staring at when she arrived.

"What is it?"

He laughed. "Oh, I can make a few guesses. That's all, really." He stared intently at the fragile remnant.

"What do you mean, you just guess? I mean, archaeology isn't rocket science, I agree, but you're working with physical remains. Testable things. Reproducible tests. That's basic science, not just a guess."

"Well. Not to be disrespectful of your discipline." She tilted her head, puzzled. "I think all science is a combination of guesswork and narratization. See." He looked away for a few seconds, and sighed. "The past is so irrevocably lost to us. Yes, we have physical artifacts," and he gestured with the hand holding the piece, "and yes, I do think some of our guesses are educated and probably correct. But they're still guesses."

"Is that a problem?"

"Not really. It can't be, since it's all we have. I try to be pragmatic about this," and Sam had to stifle a giggle at the thought of Daniel being pragmatic. "These pieces we find, they embody the past. They, they _are_ the past, for all intents and purposes. We look at them, compare them to what we're familiar with, and make guesses. It looks like a pot, so we call it a pot. A round vessel, usually used in the kitchen.

"But it might be _any_thing, Sam. We honestly can't know. We're concocting stories, trying to make sense of these things we find buried in the earth. But we can't know."

"So this," and he gestured again, "this is time travel. It's touching the past. And it's completely incomprehensible. Even if it were from earth, from a recent culture, it would still be incomprehensible. All we can do is tell ourselves stories. Comfort ourselves with stories."

She stared at him, concerned. "Daniel. You do so much more than that."

"I know." He smiled at her. "I'm not saying anything new. This is how archaeologists experience existential angst. A well-known phenomenon."

After a moment, she gently took the artifact from his hand and looked carefully at it. It left smudges on her hand: dirt from another planet. It had a slight odor of dust, like the desert, and was a very deep, almost chocolate brown. She could see patterned grooves on it, maybe in decoration.

"I think what you do is magic," she finally said. "To look at something like this and extrapolate an entire culture."

He laughed. "Either that or we're just terrific liars."

"Oh, Daniel." They stared at each other for a moment. "Come have coffee with me. Tell me what else you've been doing."

"Only if you tell me about your two weeks off."

"Oh! Daniel, you have to come for a ride with me!" She sat the artifact down very carefully, dusted her hands, and stood up. "Come on. Coffee, and then my surprise."

The next address they dialed up after their respite revealed through the MALP's camera a site of enormous boulders, their jagged edges gleaming in the dawn. "Wow," O'Neill said, staring into the monitor. "Looks like Pompeii."

"What do you suppose happened?" Sam wondered.

Daniel shook his head slowly. "We should get one of the geologists in here. But it looks to me as if there's been fairly recent seismic activity. We should probably send a seismometer through and let it record for a while before we attempt to visit this place."

"I agree with Doctor Jackson," General Hammond said, also staring into the monitor. "Will you take care of it?"

"Yes, sir. Right away. Sergeant Davis, when the wormhole collapses, would you let me know? I'll want a copy of the tape."

"Yes, sir."

Daniel charged off to make the arrangements, Sam watching him fondly. She'd been hoping for a nice place to visit. By "nice," she meant pretty to look at, maybe unpopulated, a supply of naquadah or trinium within easy walking distance of the gate, and no Goa'uld. Oh well. Maybe next time. Probably not, but she would continue to hope.

"Seismically stable," Daniel reported a few days later. "Apparently all the jumble of rocks had occurred because of a large flood some time in the distant past."

"So it's safe for SG-1 to go there?" General Hammond asked skeptically.

"Well, if it's a rainy day, I wouldn't advise it, but -- yes. It's as safe as such a trip can be. And Sam," Daniel turned to her, "the geology team has some specific ideas about where to look for trinium. They've sketched out a map for us."

"Good work, Daniel," O'Neill told him, and rested his forearms on the table. "General?"

Hammond nodded. "You have a go, people. Be careful. This will be a short run, so plan everything in detail, in advance. Tomorrow at oh-nine hundred."

"Thank you, sir," Sam said sincerely, and the others murmured their thanks.

"Okay. Let's continue this in my office," O'Neill announced. "Daniel, do we need to bring in any of the geologists at this point?"

"I'll bring Dave Crvk. He led this analysis."

"Have him there in ten."

The team left the briefing room, O'Neill right behind Daniel, as usual, and Sam a bit behind him. She watched them walk up the corridor toward Daniel's office before she turned and walked with Teal'c to the colonel's.

The planet was as awful as it had appeared in the tiny monitor. It was chilly, too, a humid chill that went through Sam's jacket, vest, thermal shirt, and tee shirt and right to her bones. Daniel, she knew, suffered especially from the cold, and he looked pinched and white after only a few minutes.

"Over here," she directed the team, following Doctor Crvk's careful instructions and painstakingly drawn map. The area he'd identified as looking promising for trinium was below a tumble of boulders and loose fill, scree, and gravel. Altogether not a place she wanted to hang out. She needed to gather the samples as prescribed by Crvk and get the team home as quickly and safely as possible.

They huddled together over Crvk's map, reviewing what they'd already memorized, and then went to work, cautiously extracting samples and placing them into small glass vials. O'Neill walked a kind of perimeter, a large half circle beneath them, and then a wider half circle above them, careful not to kick any loose soil or rocks on their heads.

O'Neill startled Sam by scrambling back down not far from her, apparently suddenly heedless of her safety. "Back to the gate," he directed, and then loped off toward Teal'c. Sam didn't question him; she began packing the vials in their shatterproof case as quickly as she could, glancing curiously up the hill.

"We must go, Major Carter," Teal'c said, and she nodded.

"Just a minute. Let me --" He knelt next to her and quickly closed the case, locking it shut and then sliding it under his arm. They rose and started retracing their path to the stargate. Sam glanced behind her and saw O'Neill and Daniel jogging toward them.

Suddenly she saw a yellow light, felt it really, and then she didn't feel anything at all.

When she woke, there was a roaring in her ears and a painful pressure on her chest. She could barely catch her breath, and struggled against panic as she tried to breathe evenly and slowly. She couldn't see a thing. When she had calmed her terrified body, she realized she couldn't see because she couldn't open her eyes. She couldn't move her hand, her head, her foot -- she seemed to be paralyzed. Again, panic surged through her, and again she struggled to calm herself, trying to remember her training. She couldn't even take a deep breath. Nothing. Just paralysis, silence, blindness.

She began to count her breaths, focusing all her attention on the limited sensation she did have. It appeared to be all internal. She could breathe lightly. She could feel her heartbeat in her throat and chest and, with more concentration, in her wrists. Her bladder was filling, and in the absence of any other sensation, she felt pleased with that knowledge, even if it meant she'd wet herself later.

After she'd cataloged all these sensations, she realized she could hear, too. Voices. Male voices. In fact, she realized she was listening to the colonel and Daniel in a terrific argument.

"Goddammit, Daniel, I swear to god I'm gonna put you over my knee and --"

"How, exactly, will that help our situation?" Daniel interrupted him sharply.

"It won't, but it'll sure as hell make me feel better."

"I'm so glad violence once again solves your emotional problems."

"Listen, you little prick, if you'd fucking do what I say --"

"I _did_ what you said. You said pack up and go; I packed up and went. So why exactly do you want to put me over your knee?"

There was a tense silence, and then O'Neill laughed sadly. "Come here." There were other noises then, very soft, and she heard the two men sigh. "Thank god you're all right. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"It's all right, Jack." More soft noises, rustling sounds, and then Daniel whispered, "Actually, a spanking might have its charms."

"Daniel!"

"Little prick? You sure?"

"Hmm."

More silence. Sam wondered what the fuck was going on; surely it couldn't be what it sounded like? Maybe she was hallucinating. The colonel and Daniel?

Then Daniel said, "Jack. We need to find Sam and Teal'c."

"I know. I've been thinking about that." There were more sounds -- cloth rubbed together? She strained to hear better. Then the colonel said, "We need to keep out of sight of those sons-a-bitches, and hope to hell they haven't found them, or else aren't interested in them."

"What did you see? When you told us to go? Were they Jaffa? Goa'uld?"

"I don't think so. Not really people. More like your Unas. Only not, Daniel. They're not Unas, so don't go charging out there with a powerbar, trying to make friends."

"But they had weapons?"

"Yeah. They looked like those fire sticks that Jaffa used. Only different. They shot out this yellow light, like the staff weapon. Only different."

"So not Goa'uld technology."

"Don't think so."

More silence. Sam tried to move, tried to open her mouth, but she was still trapped inside her body, helpless to call out to her teammates.

Then a scuffling sound; they were moving out. Trying to find her. How could she help them? They seemed to be getting farther away, until the sounds vanished. Once again, panic threatened her, and she felt tears come to her eyes. Oh, just _shit_, she thought.

She tried to persuade herself that movement was returning, but other than a tear sliding down her cheek, she felt nothing. Then she heard voices again and stopped struggling to move and started struggling to recognize them. Were they the colonel's and Daniel's? Or whoever had shot her?

"How are we going to get him back?" Daniel asked. "We can't carry him."

"You're going back. Get help. Get Feretti's team out here."

"I'm not leaving you."

"The hell you're not. Are you or are you not under my command?"

"Well, technically --"

"Daniel."

A long, tense silence. Sam wondered what they were doing, what looks they were exchanging. After a while, Daniel sighed and said, "All right, Jack. I'll go. But I'm coming back with Lou. That's all there is to it."

"I know I couldn't stop you," O'Neill said fondly, and then Sam heard their footsteps drawing nearer.

"Sam!" Daniel cried, and she knew he was near. "Jack, she's comatose, like Teal'c. Oh my god."

"Well, we can carry her. You can get her through the gate and to the infirmary."

She couldn't feel their hands on her, but her stomach and ears told her she was being lifted up and moved. "Careful," Daniel whispered, and then they seemed to be jogging; she felt a little motion sickness.

After a long while, O'Neill said, "Dial her home, Daniel," and she heard the familiar sounds of the DHD. She felt tears start up again in relief; she'd be in Janet's capable hands soon. And obviously they knew where Teal'c was. Oh, please let them get home soon. "Go!" O'Neill whispered, and she felt herself lifted again, and then the familiar rushing sensation as she and Daniel traveled through the wormhole and he stumbled out onto the ramp.

"Medic! Medic!" he yelled, right in her ear, but she didn't care. Bless you, she thought, dizzy from being manhandled through unthinkable distances. God bless you, Daniel Jackson.

Sam had a lot of time to think while the effects of the yellow light wore off. She started experiencing sensations again, like the prick of a needle into her arm, and the heat of the light Janet must be shining in her eyes. She started to believe that she'd recover, and let herself relax and stop struggling against the paralysis. Janet would figure it out, or it would wear off, or something would happen. She might as well let it.

And while she lay motionless, cared for so tenderly by her friends in the infirmary, she thought about what she'd overheard while she lay deaf and dumb and motionless. O'Neill threatening to put Daniel over his knee. Their soft words to each other. What did it mean? Could she rely on her memories? She'd been half-conscious and terrified.

There was one conclusion she could draw, but it was unthinkable. After a while, she fell asleep. After a while, she could move again. And after a while, she watched the two men more closely, trying to confirm what she suspected.

When the doctors determined that she'd finally recovered enough, she sat in the debriefing room, next to Teal'c and across from the colonel and Daniel, recounting her story. General Hammond asked, "That's all? Major, you heard nothing while you were immobilized?"

She risked a glance across the table; both men were watching her with concern and affection on their faces. They sat no closer together than she did to Teal'c, didn't glance meaningfully at each other, exchanged no word. Maybe she had imagined the entire conversation? At last she shook her head. "I'm sorry, General," she said honestly. "Nothing that would explain why we were attacked or who attacked us." She looked at O'Neill. "Colonel? What did you find out?"

Now he shook his head. "They came, they shot you and Teal'c, they split."

"I think they were a hunting party, Sam, out looking for game," Daniel added.

"And we were just in the way."

He looked sympathetically at her, and she could tell he wanted to take her hand but was restraining himself out of respect for her position within the military. She'd seen that look before. It meant dinner with him, and quiet conversation, mostly on Daniel's part while he poured out his frustration with military protocol. From the corner of her eye, she saw General Hammond gazing at him sympathetically and realized he, too, must've been the recipient of Daniel's bafflement at the rules and regulations.

"Very well, Major Carter. I'm glad you've recovered. SG-1 is stood down for another four days. I'm sure you all have work to do."

"Sam," Daniel said predictably as they rose, and she was sure she caught a smile from the general. Jack slapped him on the back, his hand lingering, and she remembered that gesture. How often had she seen it?

"Take me to dinner, Daniel," she said firmly. To her surprise, she felt Teal'c gently touch her shoulder. He gave her a look that she was pretty sure was a smile before leaving with the colonel.

"My place," Daniel told her, picking up his files and notes, "and you bring the wine."

And then they were a team again, back on another planet, searching this time for technology from people the UAV had discovered a few miles from the stargate. Daniel and his department had studied the pictures carefully, while Sam had studied the various readouts from the UAVs sensors, and both had come to the same conclusion: this was a society a little more technologically advanced that ours. They might have something. They might want to trade information, or trinium, or who could guess.

O'Neill, to Sam's amused annoyance, was more interested in Cassandra's birthday party. "So" he started up as soon as they stepped through the event horizon. "Chicken, I think. And hot dogs. Burgers?"

"Jack. How many people are you inviting?"

"Well. Us. The general and his grandchildren. Janet and Cassie, of course. Cassie's boyfriend; what's his name? My neighbors, so they won't complain. Who else?"

"I believe we should invite Captain Simmons."

"Who?"

"You know, Jack. Graham Simmons. Why, Teal'c?"

"He assisted Major Carter when she rebuilt her motorcycle."

"Major?"

"Um. Yes, thank you, Teal'c. It would be nice to invite him. He's very, uh."

"He has a crush on you, Sam."

"Daniel."

"And I think you like him."

"Daniel! You're worse than my brother Mark."

O'Neill ruffled Daniel's hair. "You're learning, Daniel."

"He's obviously studied at the feet of a master," Sam said tartly. Oops. "Sorry, sir."

The colonel waved his hand magnanimously. "Naw. It's true. I've been a mentor to him."

"Will you two stop talking about me in the third person? I'm right here. And I suppose I have been influenced by Jack. After all these years working together, it was inevitable."

"So. Chicken, hot dogs, and burgers. What else?"

"Is this a potluck, sir? Or are you providing everything?"

"It's on me. Not every day that Cassandra turns seventeen."

"Well, Janet tells me she's going through a vegetarian phase, so I'm not sure a barbecue is, well."

"Shit. Well, if not a barbecue, what?"

Sam smiled to herself. "You know Cassie's crazy about you, Colonel. Anything you do will be wonderful in her eyes."

"That doesn't help." He slouched, brooding. "Daniel?"

"I don't know anything about teenagers, Jack."

"Teal'c?"

"I know very little about human adolescents, O'Neill. Perhaps you should ask her mother."

"Yeah. I guess. Shit."

"Colonel, really. Have the barbecue. Just have lots of different salads on hand. She'll be thrilled."

"Ya think?"

"I think."

He gave her a crooked smile, and glanced at his chronometer. "How much farther to this village?"

"Another three klicks, sir."

"Okay. So, Carter. What kinds of salad should I have?"

Sam shook her head, and caught Daniel's eye. He grinned at her, and winked. He was obviously enjoying the planning as much as the colonel was.

And it was a good party, Sam thought two weeks later as she stood in Colonel O'Neill's backyard. The smell of grilling meat filled the clear air, as did the noise of all her friends visiting with each other. Since most of them were from the base and spent the days together, she wondered what they had to say to each other that was so fascinating. She wandered through the crowd, looking for Cassie. Hammond was talking golf with Siler. Simmons was talking motorcycles with Teal'c. Daniel was staring doubtfully at the chicken breasts O'Neill was poking with a long, dangerous-looking fork.

"Are you sure?" he was asking, squinting in the bright sunlight. "I thought they all carried salmonella."

"Daniel. We're not eating them raw. And after everything you've eaten, I can't believe you're hesitating about chicken."

"Maybe I'll have some of Cassandra's salad instead."

"Hey, Carter."

"Hi, Sam." She got a hug from Daniel and a beer from the colonel. "Nice to see you. How long have you been here?"

"Just a few minutes. Looks like the party's going well."

"Well," the colonel said modestly. "Enough beer and even the most boring briefing becomes a party."

She took a sip of hers, the bottle slippery with melting ice. "What did you get Cassie?"

"Oh, shit, that reminds me. Daniel, would you get it? It's on the dresser in the bedroom."

"That's okay, I'll get," Sam volunteered. "You stay here and supervise the colonel." She turned toward the house and threaded her way through the crowd, waving at Janet, who was setting out an enormous bowl of potato salad. It was a lot quieter inside, and she sighed, happy for a moment to be alone.

The colonel had a beautiful home. It didn't look very lived in, probably because it wasn't. Like her, he spent much of his time at the base, and they all had sleeping quarters there. But it was filled with light, and handsome furniture, and even a few artifacts that Daniel must've given or loaned him. Like that footed bowl, standing in a bookcase. Which, as she looked more closely, she saw had a few anthropology books in it, and not coffee table books. She stopped snooping and walked toward the master bedroom, finding it at the end of a long hallway.

It was a big room, looking out over the backyard. Through the sheer curtains, she could see the guests milling about, more of them drawn by the smell to the barbecue where O'Neill presided, Daniel next to him and clearly giving him a hard time. Cassandra was there, too, with her new boyfriend, who looked extremely intimidated.

She walked to the dresser, a heavy piece of cherry wood with a big mirror above it. On top, next to a gold tray with keys, cufflinks, and a small yellow Swiss Army knife, sat a carefully-wrapped box. She wondered what the colonel was giving Cassie as she picked it up and gently balanced it in her hand. The wrong shape for books. Hmm.

In the mirror, she saw the king-size bed behind her, with matching end tables on either side. On one table were books and a few pictures and, feeling incredibly guilty, she turned and went closer, bending over to examine them.

_The Rings of Saturn_. _Recent History_. _American Gods_. _Black Hawk Down_. She had no idea the colonel had such eclectic taste in his reading.

She turned her attention to the framed photographs crowding the small tabletop. One was of the colonel's son, Charlie. A handsome boy, with his father's smile and eyes. Next to that was a picture of Sara, whom Sam had seen only once. She was a pretty woman, though she'd been tired and frightened when Sam had met her.

Two other pictures sat on the table. One was of Daniel in Egypt, nearly slipping off a camel, grinning wildly. Beside that, a picture of Daniel and O'Neill, arms slung around each other as they beamed into the camera. She picked up that photograph, trying to figure out where they were. She didn't recognize the background at all, and wondered who had taken it.

They were standing outdoors, by a lake she glimpsed behind and between them. Both were dressed in jeans with sweatshirts, and both were lightly bearded, as if they hadn't shaved in a couple days. Daniel's head was tilted until it was almost resting on the colonel's shoulder, and although O'Neill was looking into the camera, Sam thought he had been saying something to Daniel the moment the picture had been taken.

They looked absolutely together. As if nothing in this world or any other could separate them.

She had never forgotten the conversations she'd overheard when she'd been paralyzed. Their constant teasing of each other, the colonel's showing off, Daniel's mock exasperation. The glances they gave each other just before one of them spoke.

She set the picture down, nudging it into place, and looked around the bedroom. For a moment, she was tempted to open drawers and the closet, see if there were two sets of clothes here, but she resisted. She picked up Cassandra's gift from where she'd set it on the bed, and left.

Cassandra was standing next to Daniel when she returned to the grill. "Is this it?" she squealed, and Sam handed it to her. Daniel looked at O'Neill with a small smile, and the colonel nodded at him. "Thank you, Jack," Cassie cried, and kissed him on the cheek, then leaned over and kissed Daniel, too. "Thank you both," she said, and Sam felt like an idiot.

She felt a presence at her side and looked up a Teal'c. "Are you unwell, Major Carter?" he softly asked her.

"I'm fine," she lied.

"Perhaps you should sit down." He gently took her elbow and led her back to the picnic table, covered with saran-wrapped salads, and she obediently sat on a bench.

"Really, I'm fine." Teal'c bowed his head regally, but remained standing at her side. She sipped her beer and, through the crowd, watched the colonel clown for Daniel. Daniel looked at her and raised his head; she raised her beer in a salute.

Two nights later, Sam shyly invited Teal'c over for dinner. "No barbecue," she promised, and he nodded gravely. Instead, she cooked a turkey breast and made mashed potatoes and gravy, a salad, and bought an apple pie for dessert. Teal'c sniffed appreciatively when he arrived.

"This is very kind of you, Major Carter," he announced.

"Please. While you're eating my food, please call me Sam."

"Samantha."

"Thank you."

"You have not invited me to your home before."

"No. I'm sorry, Teal'c. It just never occurred to me."

He remained silent, standing in the hallway looking down at her. She was a tall woman, used to looking men in the eyes, and it was an odd feeling to tilt her head back to see his. After an awkward moment, she said, "Please. Come on into the kitchen."

He followed her and then took up a position near the door, watching as she finished mashing the potatoes and covered them to let them fluff. "Um. How are you, Teal'c?"

"I am well."

Not much for small talk, she reminded herself. Well, she had her reasons for inviting him. Maybe she should just get to it.

"You don't drink alcohol, I know," she said opening the refrigerator. "But I have some sparkling apple cider. Would you like some?"

He nodded, and she poured two champagne glasses full. "Cheers," she said, lightly touching her glass against his.

"Cheers, Samantha." After he sipped cautiously at it, he said, "This beverage is most refreshing. I believe I will enjoy it."

She relaxed. This would be okay. "There's plenty more, Teal'c. Please, help yourself."

She sat down at the kitchen table and gestured for him to sit, too. "Listen, Teal'c. I'm really glad to have you here, and glad to have a reason to cook for someone besides myself. But I have to be honest with you. I wanted to meet with you off base to ask you some questions about Colonel O'Neill and Daniel."

He watched her solemnly, and she felt herself blushing before his scrutiny.

"Um. Not that it's any of my business, but on Chulak, do men have, uh, relationships with other men?"

"Of course."

"No. I'm sorry, I'm not being very clear. I meant, um, well. Actually, I meant, do men have _sexual_ relationships with other men?"

"Of course. Although very differently than they do here. I have been watching Queer as Folk, which seems to be a guide to same-sex relationships on this planet, or at least in this country."

Sam blushed even more. "Yes, of course. Never seen it, but I've heard about it. Uh, have you heard the expression 'don't ask, don't tell'?"

"I have. General Hammond explained it to me shortly after I was accepted into the SGC. I believe it is an ignorant and even dangerous policy. On Chulak, among Jaffa, it is much different. For example, Master Bra'tac and I --"

"Oh, Teal'c, sorry, but that's too much information."

He looked blankly at her.

"Sorry. I mean, I'm glad to know that you have -- had -- that you have someone. That's good. But what I wanted to ask you was if you, do you think. Is it possible. Have you seen anything that leads you to think that Colonel O'Neill and Daniel are, uh, in a relationship? A sexual. Relationship."

Teal'c continued to stare at her blankly.

"Never mind. I shouldn't've asked, and you shouldn't tell. I know that. Sorry. More apple cider?"

"Major Carter. What would you have to do if I told?"

Now she stared blankly at him. "Well. I guess it depends on what you told me."

"Your government's policy is very confusing."

"It's not my policy. Not mine. Just, uh, curious. You know. Curiosity killed the cat."

"Why would you wish to kill a cat? Did you not once give Narim of Tollana a cat?"

"It's just an expression, Teal'c. I'm sorry. Uh, I should check on the turkey."

"Major Carter. Samantha. I have not answered your question."

She looked at the floor, not sure she wanted to hear his answer. After a while, she sighed heavily and said, "It's why I asked you over. Or at least one reason why I asked you over. So I guess I should listen to what you think."

"I think O'Neill and Daniel Jackson are in a sexual relationship, as you say. General Hammond told me, however, that I must not notice. So I have never noticed, nor spoken of it to anyone until now."

She felt a rush of relief. She wasn't crazy. She wasn't reading too much into sounds heard when she was injured and panicking, or from a single photograph, or from a book by a bed. It wasn't just two friends she was watching. "Oh, god, thank you, Teal'c. Honest, I thought I was going crazy.

"Wait a minute." She pulled her gaze up from the floor and to Teal'c. "General Hammond told you not to notice? Not to notice what? Men in sexual relationships, or Colonel O'Neill and Daniel?"

"He said if I were to notice any men in sexual relationships, I wasn't to speak of it to anyone. He said, 'Not that there's anything to notice.' So I didn't notice."

"But he didn't specifically mention the colonel and Daniel, right?"

"He did not."

Holy Hannah, Sam thought, and put her hand to her head. She really was an idiot. That epiphany in the O'Neill's bedroom -- well, probably O'Neill and Daniel's bedroom -- was how many years too late? Five? More, probably. They'd met over six years ago, nearly seven, when Catherine still ran the stargate project, before it was SGC. Before Daniel had met Sha'uri.

Holy Hannah, indeed. "Uh, who else knows about this? About them?"

"I do not know. I have never spoken of it to anyone, nor has anyone else ever spoken of it to me."

She nodded. "Thank you, Teal'c. Really. We won't speak of it again. You're right, General Hammond was right. It's too dangerous. I just needed to know."

He regarded her gravely. "This relationship disturbs you?"

"No. Not the relationship. The fact that I didn't know. That I didn't figure it out until -- gosh. A couple months ago. All this time. I feel like an idiot."

"They are careful men, Major Carter. They do not offer one much to notice."

"Yeah. And call me Samantha, okay? Just for tonight. I need a friend, tonight."

"I am happy to be your friend, Samantha."

She sighed. "Thank you, Teal'c. Are you hungry? 'Cause I'm not sure I'm hungry."

"In my experience, Samantha, after a great shock, humans sometimes recover more quickly if they indulge in a small alcoholic beverage. Perhaps you should do so."

"It wouldn't bother you? Because I could sure use a glass of white wine right now."

He nodded again. "I am your guest, Samantha. On Chulak, a host's responsibility toward a guest is to see to his comfort. I would be comforted were you to have a glass of this wine."

"Thank you, Teal'c. You're a wonderful guest."

She never spoke of the colonel and Daniel again, to Teal'c or to anyone else. She didn't write it in a journal, she didn't tell her father when he came to visit, she didn't hint about it to Janet when they gossiped about the men on the base, she didn't give any suggestion to Daniel or the colonel that she knew. It was easy for her. She was quickly absorbed into any technical problem tossed at her, and she simply made sure there were many and difficult ones. People expected her to ramble on about incomprehensible equipment as if raving about a recent movie, so she did. And when she saw Colonel O'Neill circle any room, from the general's briefing room to the commissary to a function they had to attend in DC, and always end up at Daniel's side, she didn't let herself brood about it.

They went on missions. They were stood down. They were investigated by someone from the NID, and then investigated by that nice Major Davis. They went on more missions.

Very occasionally, as she and Teal'c set up their tent on one of the many worlds they visited, she would catch his eye and they would smile. That's all. A slight nod, perhaps. Who knew what it meant; maybe she was imagining it. Teal'c didn't smile much, and when he did, it wasn't much of a smile. But then both their eyes would turn toward Daniel and the colonel, squabbling as they set up their own tent, and Sam would be comforted, quietly comforted.

On one such mission, she squatted behind a low, crumbling adobe wall, her trousers rolled down near her ankles, her head resting on her knees. Her uterus was contracting painfully and she wondered if she could take more ibuprofen or if that would make the bleeding worse. Why didn't the birth control pill help with this; wasn't it supposed to? Goddammit. And how come they were always off world for her periods? Who the fuck scheduled these missions, anyway?

On the other side of the wall and around a corner, she could hear O'Neill and Daniel arguing idly. Whether Daniel would have time to investigate these ruins or not before they had to return to the SGC. Daniel, as usual, was winning the argument. They seemed to be coming closer; she hunched over even further, hoping they hadn't forgotten that she was here.

"I don't know why you put up a fight," Daniel was saying. "Unless we're being shot at by Jaffa, you always let me look. Why not just start out with that assumption?"

"I dunno, Danny. Maybe because I'm anxious to get home, get you back safe and sound?"

"Jack. Even though you don't respect the work I do --"

"Hey, I respect it."

"You do not. And even though you don't, it's still important. Important enough that the Air Force pays me quite a bit to do it. So I'd appreciate you giving me the time to do it."

"Yadda yadda. Whatever. You can do it this time."

"And next time." Daniel really sounded smug; Sam smiled to herself. Just a little longer and she could get herself dressed again

"Pretty cocky,"

"Yes, I am."

There was a long silence. Sam listened intently; what on earth were they doing? Oh, wait. They weren't on earth.

"Mmmm," Daniel sighed at last.

"Yeah," the colonel said softly, tenderly, and Sam smiled again.

"So I can look?"

"Yeah. You can look."

"Good. Come on, we can do a preliminary survey while we wait for Sam." She heard them move away from her, Daniel speaking urgently to O'Neill. She sighed, and pulled out a fresh tampon. That reminded her; she should look at the tampons Daniel was still carrying for her. They were probably beat all to hell and needed replacing. Well, when they were back on earth.

Now that was going to be an embarrassing conversation. But Daniel would make it okay, would ease her way through it. That's what he was good at.

She finally rose, jerking her trousers up and reshouldering her pack. At least it wasn't raining.


End file.
